


Revelry

by the__pleiades



Category: Hades (Video Game 2018)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Thanatos, Established Relationship, M/M, Mutual Pining, POV Alternating, Top Zagreus, alternative ending, but "post-game", for one night only, implied alcohol kinda?, no spoilers tho, pre-v1.0
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:28:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26535826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the__pleiades/pseuds/the__pleiades
Summary: When drink flows as freely as it does at a feast of Dionysus, the party eventually passes a point of no return for the evening and becomes a whirlwind without direction. Some of the gods succumbed to the closest thing they allow to slumber, forming crooked shapes in their chaises, others leaned closer to the dryads and naiads, who clung to their bodies, to exchange words and gestures not suited to the rest of the party.Thanatos lost track of his place in this chaos, lost track of time, and lost track of Zagreus only to find him suddenly a hair’s breadth away from his lips.Zagreus’ wicked grin came into focus.“Come,” said Zagreus.
Relationships: Thanatos/Zagreus (Hades Video Game)
Comments: 35
Kudos: 543





	Revelry

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this entirely pre-v1.0 release, but I am s l o w. So uh... happy day after v1.0 release :'D 
> 
> No relationship spoilers, other than that their relationship is established. This takes place, theoretically, after Zagreus escapes. I haven't cleared the true ending yet, so I have no idea if this will comport with it. I've marked it as post-canon or likely canon divergent for that reason. [ETA: Post-clear, although I could make my own Ted Talk how this could possibly Be Canon, I've decided to mark this as an "alternative ending"] 
> 
> Also, I do include other non-canon gods in here because it's fun. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy it!

Thanatos wished he was capable of being late. 

Mount Olympus simmered in the heat rising from the Earth below. Above him, steppes of lush green gardens burst out of stone spires, traveling up into the steamy mist, which extended far into the heavens. Through the darkness, Thanatos could just make out the Pantheon, then the palaces that dotted the mountainside, their columns lit only by the haze of fire and moonlight. 

The air felt close. Midsummer arrived so suddenly. Thanatos remembered the winter after Zagreus left as though it lasted eons, each snowfall burying some part of him with it, as he brought respite to those mortals who succumbed to the illnesses coursing through their freezing bones. The white of the world blinded him to time, blinded him from everything but his sorrowful work, until he looked up one day to find the ice melted all around him, starkly exposing the world beneath it. The temperature rose higher and higher still. The sun scorched his armor. The longer the summer persisted, the further the memory of heat curled its way into his skin. He tried not to linger where it could find him.

The planted land flourished in the depths of winter, but summer heralded the abundance of fresh fruits and vegetables. The harvest meant a feast, and this feast, for whatever reason, meant a ceasefire. Thanatos’ work slowed, and suddenly the stretches of silence without a soul calling him—in the absence of someone to spend it with—felt like a weight that would crush him if he let it.

The mountainside towered above him, and for a moment the constellations seemed closer than the home of the Olympians. With the feast already long in full swing, Thanatos could slip in after the rest of the Olympians had already gathered. Thanatos could hear the delicate notes of a lyre drifting out toward the gate, and the deep, rolling tremor of Poseidon’s laughter shook the ground beneath him. 

To be this close to their dwelling felt like an intrusion—one he had been avoiding for as long as possible. He never arrived there on good terms before. Thanatos wondered how long he could delay his entrance. He wondered if he could turn back.  
If he turned back, he couldn’t promise the same invitation would be extended. This may be his only chance. Thanatos gathered as much from the hurried words of Hermes, in one breath proudly boasting of his role in the timeliest of ceasefires, insinuating the necessity of Thanatos’ exact time of attendance at the feast in another, as they met in a meadow some sunny afternoon. 

Thanatos would later see that the harvest was more bountiful than in years’ past, wine nearly flowed through the streets, and even the infernal court under which he served seemed to lull itself to a temporary rest. It was all, almost certainly, by design. Without their saying as much, Thanatos understood the reason for the gods’ orchestrations. With few exceptions, they weren’t doing it for his benefit, and they certainly weren’t doing it to please mortals. These behaviors came all in the service of one, who was finally receiving his long overdue festivities celebrating his near-Titanic feat.

The thought crossed his mind that Thanatos would be expected to return the gesture in kind. Another thought, more concerning still, was that a pact was already made on his behalf. The Olympians only operated in favors and sacrifice, and when it came to the powers that the god of death wrought, there was no doubt in the sordid nature of their desires. In any other circumstance, he would have openly scorned their aid and the conditions they attached to it. He almost considered it even so. But Hermes had no time for Thanatos’ hesitation—accept it or don’t, but make up your mind.

He accepted it. The ease with which he replied to the ultimatum surprised him. For all he knew, this was a cruel trick, or perhaps another punishment. 

But what if it wasn’t?

A teasing voice called out his name from the gate, where the three Horae sisters, in their pastel dresses and wreaths weaved into their long hair, lay like flower petals plucked from their stems. His cousins could barely be called guards that night. Each beckoned him forward, their fingers sparking with starlight. Eirene herself softly chided Thanatos to stop loitering and join the fun. After all, his presence was expected timely, as always. 

Her implicit blessing of peace gave Thanatos _some_ comfort.

Beyond the gate sprawled the Acropolis. Thanatos was taken aback by the display of so many powerful beings convened, quite unlike the isolation and silence to which he was accustomed. Gods, goddesses, and nymphs from every realm of nature danced and lounged as far as he could see. Delicacies glittered under the globes of enchanted lanterns. Canteens of spirits passed between bejeweled hands. Removed from time and duty, here there was no strife, no business, not even the ever-present fraternal argument—all suspended until the gods decided it was so.

It did not take long for Thanatos’ presence to be registered among the other guests. He greeted Dionysus first, as was appropriate. Regardless of the reason, a feast was always at his discretion. Dionysus greeted him in return as though he was the first person to arrive, as though the whole party revolved around Thanatos. Such was his power, Thanatos supposed.

Although it was not his custom, he knew it would be a dishonor to reject any of the libations from his fellow gods, and so when Dionysus pushed a goblet into Thanatos’ hands for a toast—“To one of our _finest_ Chthonic allies”—he thanked him and took a deep swig. The nectar, sweet and warm, numbed his throat. Dionysus did not take his eyes off Thanatos nor break his sentence as he refilled his glass, continuing his profuse gratitude for Thanatos’ discreet aid from the other side. Although Thanatos suspected insincerity from Olympians by default, he returned the gesture, and the two shared niceties until Thanatos’ face tingled and his jaw loosened.

Without fanfare, a familiar figure emerged from the crowd. Just the glimpse of him from the corner of his eye, and Thanatos felt his heart rush into his throat. It took everything in his power not to let it choke him.

Zagreus was free. He was safe. And he looked as radiant as ever.

Zagreus did appear different, though, just enough for the vision of him to feel uncanny. He wore a fresh blood-red chiton, longer to cover his bare thighs, loose upon taut chest. The bony adornments of the Underworld had been exchanged for gleaming gold finery cut in the shape of the blooming vines and leaves of the season, which traced over his shoulders and his forearms. The gold caught the light from his laurel crown, weeping still, slightly askew in his tousled hair. 

But Thanatos detected too a more implicit change, hidden beneath his exterior. Thanatos had always known the limits of Zagreus’ power, even as he watched it grow in time, but Thanatos could now only sense the edges of his faintly. Imbued with powerful blessings, invigorated from heroic battles, honing his strength to a spearpoint, Zagreus all but shed every physical sense of his naiveté. The ill begotten prince was a god after all—a god who commanded reverence at that, having proven himself so handedly. And yet, all of this power shined through the same affable smile he wore since his birth, like all the strength of the sun focused through a gentle sunbeam.

As Thanatos caught himself up in this spectacle, Zagreus dashed over and pulled Thanatos in a tight embrace. How Zagreus’ hands wrapped around Thanatos’ back, how his chin pressed into his shoulder, how he squeezed him as though he could allow no air could exist between them–in an instant, the span of seasons vanished. 

“Welcome, my love,” exclaimed Zagreus, his voice bursting out of him in joy. Thanatos fought the urge to freeze, but in quickly scanning the room he saw no looks of disdain or gestures of reprieve at Zagreus’ display—only the same nonchalant merriment. In fact, no one even seemed to glance up when Zagreus pressed into him for a kiss on the cheek.

When Zagreus pulled him back, he held Thanatos’ face in his hands, studying Than as if to prove to himself that Than was real. Thanatos felt his grip and heat so intimately that he trembled. 

He tried, and failed, to find the words for this moment. Those that came to him in dreams. Those that invaded his mind where silence grew. Those that he allowed to breathe only in times of weakness. As always, it was Zagreus who beat him there.

“I almost cannot believe you are here,” said Zagreus, his voice quieter then. 

Zagreus had not managed to enjoy much of his own feast up to this point. He worried that his most ardent request would go unanswered, that Than would not make it to Olympus. He had plenty reason not to come. The risk alone made it precarious, but even that aside, Zagreus knew how uncomfortable the prospect had been for Than. These were colleagues more than family, and he could not anticipate their reaction to his presence. Their meetings were rarely what one would call joyful. For Thanatos to quell that unease was no small feat.

But Zagreus had soon realized his time on Olympus brought him his own sort of discomfort. For all the chances before him to affirm his birthright, for all the glorious freedom he wrest from the very hands of the god who held it in such violent ransom, for all the adoration and hospitality fostered by the gods, it all felt so painfully _foreign_. He was told this would happen, but rarely did the warnings of others darken his mind for too long, until the reality of it stared him in the face. Entering this new world felt like a free fall into an unknown abyss and Zagreus could hold to nothing to catch himself. He could laud his successes, see clearly his path forward, and feel righteous in his conviction, and still the knowledge of what he left behind ate at him.

The feeling dug into his heart since his arrival, and as he situated himself in Olympus, biding his time until he could strategically slip into the mortal realm, it slowly carved out an emptiness he could not fill himself, could not solve with his own willfulness. It annoyed him to no end. He attempted to banish that feeling in exercise, moving himself to exhaustion in the mountainside, the elder gods laughing at his restlessness. Whether he hunted with Artemis or assisted Hephaestus in his blacksmithing, the worries returned as soon as he was alone again. Even in the feast’s flowing ambrosia, Zagreus found little improvement. 

But as Than held him, yearning flooded his soul unabated, and Zagreus drowned in it. All of him which so deeply needed his comfort, needed his companionship, needed his love, could be satisfied. If only for a short time. It would be enough for now.

“I had no choice,” Thanatos replied, pressing his lips into a smile. “If the god of the hour, the Prince Zagreus, requests my presence to celebrate his feat, then I am obliged to accept.” His face turned serious. “Please tell me no one made you do anything inordinate to allow for this.”

“No, no—well, not really,” said Zagreus. That story didn’t need telling now, he thought. “Nothing that I couldn’t handle, anyway. And since I’m standing here with you rather than cast away as some wretched beast on an isle somewhere, you can rest assured that I handled it well.”

Thanatos glowered. “That’s not a particularly comforting response, Zag.” He said softly, “But you are safe.”

“I promise that I am.”

“It could have been worse.” 

“Then it’s a good thing it wasn’t, right?” 

“It still might be,” Thanatos said solemnly, but in seeing Zagreus’ eyebrows knit together, he added, “What I mean is you didn’t have to do this.”

“I really, really did, Than,” said Zagreus. “Under penalty of harm and all, which I doubt surprises you.”

Thanatos sighed, but his smile grew again. “Not in the slightest.”

The two realized they had yet to let go of one another. They allowed a gentle reprieve, clutching forearms.

“I know it might be awkward for you,” said Zagreus, “But I have made the best possible attempt to stay in everyone’s good graces long enough to grant you safe passage here. So please, make yourself at home.”

“At home? Here?” Thanatos snorted. “I think that will take more than a few glasses of ambrosia.”

“Okay, maybe that wasn’t the best choice of words for the situation. But that isn’t all I have to offer, either.”

The air around them filled with the pungent smell of brine. A cluster of oceanids swelled around Zagreus. They snaked their long fingers up his biceps, leaving trails of water in their wake, singing praises of Zagreus’ strength and virility. They begged him in their childlike voices to recount his fight with Theseus for them. Thanatos wanted to snap at these lesser gods for imposing themselves so shamelessly, but he knew better to wait for Zagreus’ calmer response. After Zagreus promised he would, they slinked back to their chaises, whispering excitedly, heaping undue praise on themselves for courting him so. 

“Sorry, Than,” Zagreus said sheepishly. “As you might imagine, I have to entertain a lot of that tonight.”

“I don’t know how you will manage,” said Thanatos flatly. 

“I will do my best. At least until they all fall too far into the drink.”

“Judging by how loud everyone is since I arrived shortly ago, I think that might be imminent,” Thanatos said, gesturing around. He turned back to Zagreus. “And after that?” 

Zagreus smirked, his eyes narrowing. His attention drifted from Thanatos’ eyes, lingering down to his lips, his throat. Thanatos felt the heat rise in his face as Zagreus’ eyes roamed, until finally settling on the empty goblet resting on the table behind Thanatos.

“Would you look at that,” said Zagreus, “I’m out too. I’ll see to that at once.”

“Zag—"

In the blink of an eye he was gone, and before the warmth of his body left Thanatos’ skin, he returned with the gold cup overflowing with violet-colored liquid. 

The rest of the evening came and passed Thanatos in short bursts. In one moment, he found himself opposite Ares, the usually stoic warlord draped lazily over a chair, recounting some of his generals’ most pathetic spats. Artemis joined them in another, but he only recalled the high ringing of her laugh as she guided them through her encounters on an island to the East. As Thanatos moved from guest to guest, eventually coming to rest as close to Zagreus as the eager partygoers would allow, Thanatos’ nerves fell further and further away from him. At some point, he realized—much to his surprise, and much further to his dismay—that he was enjoying himself.

He stole glances at Zagreus, crowded by his extended family, the young and vain ones making a show of fawning over each word of his fifth, sixth or seventh retelling of his daring escape. Even the mightier gods had only seen glimpses of his triumph through the shade of the Underworld, and now Zagreus could finally tantalize them all with a new epic. His captive audience rose and fell by each beat of his story. 

Zagreus was a sight to behold to everyone, including Thanatos. Seeing him surrounded by all that adoration gave rise to conflicting feelings. He shared in Zagreus’ joy, on one hand. But on the other, had he a few more glasses in him, he might have called forth his power to rip open the threads of the living world, to seal themselves away in some dark and quiet place, so that only he could hold all of Zag’s attention.

And all of a sudden, he did want all of it. He craved it. Zag’s fleeting touch had called forth those memories delicately tucked away into his mind for safekeeping, worming their way back into his thoughts. First his skin igniting under Than’s kiss, then his thighs tight around Than’s head, then his mouth slackened as he called out Than’s name—then a furious torrent of visions and sounds, the details vanishing just enough to arouse the need to make them vivid once again. He saw the gods press in closer to him, waiting for his punchline, and the urge to steal into the night blossomed down to his fingertips.

Lost in this fantasy, it took Thanatos a moment to realize that Zagreus caught his eye as the crowd roared with laughter. The two shared a private smile. A tenderness first softened Zagreus’ gaze—then in a flash hardened into something entirely different. Something which ensnared him, locking his body and heart into place.

Thanatos knew well enough what this exchange meant, as though a flood of unspoken words crossed between them. Surrounded by bodies and voices, their silent language borne out of the eons of secrecy required of them in the Underworld endured yet. It no longer served to dampen suspicion, only to promise their reunion.

Thanatos felt his insides churn. 

As Thanatos turned away, out of the corner of his eye he saw Aphrodite lean down and whisper something into Zagreus’ ear, her pink hair falling into their faces. She must be amused, thought Thanatos. He could feel Zagreus’ gaze trained on him still. Thanatos easily performed his nonchalance as he continued to engage his party mates. He had plenty of practice concealing his desire, even as it burned hotter and deeper inside of him. 

When drink flows as freely as it does at a feast of Dionysus, the party eventually passes a point of no return for the evening and becomes a whirlwind without direction. Some of the gods succumbed to the closest thing they allow to slumber, forming crooked shapes in their chaises, others leaned closer to the dryads and naiads, who clung to their bodies, to exchange words and gestures not suited to the rest of the party. 

Thanatos lost track of his place in this chaos, lost track of time, and lost track of Zagreus only to find him suddenly a hair’s breadth away from his lips. 

Zagreus’ wicked grin came into focus.

“Come,” said Zagreus. 

Zagreus took Thanatos’ cold hand in his, delighted by the sensation in contrast to the warm air of the feast. As the world tilted away from him, he dashed from the light of the courtyard and into the haze of the garden leading up to the palaces stretching into the horizon. When he gained speed, Thanatos protested half-heartedly, until he gave up and lifted himself into the air. 

Zagreus did not look back at Than as he pulled him further up into the grounds. He knew could not stand to see Than’s silver skin catching the summer moonlight, rolling off his muscles. Nor could he stand the way his gray hair fell into his narrowed golden eyes as he feigned irritability, that same temper Zagreus always wanted to tease and test until Thanatos relented. He managed to make it well enough catching glimpses of his handsomeness in the light of the feast—but out in the garden, there was nothing really stopping Zagreus from pushing Thanatos down into the grass and touching every part of him that he missed so dearly. But he had been patient, unusually so, since his arrival on Olympus. He managed to be patient all evening. He just needed a few more seconds, and then his celebration could really begin.

Zagreus led Thanatos to his temporary dwelling a short distance from the courtyard. Thanatos could make out the inside faintly, the fire of the lanterns casting large dark shapes upon the stone walls. He would see no more than that for the time being.

The two were barely a step into Zagreus’ quarters before Zagreus slammed the door shut. All of his energy pressed into his hands on Thanatos’ chest. Thanatos had no time to react before he was pinned against the closed door. 

Zagreus sealed any further words from Thanatos with a deep kiss. Thanatos softened immediately, melting back into Zagreus’ lips. The tension that had so painstakingly wound itself into their bodies over time uncoiled at once, releasing the joy of unconscious, unthinking impulse. Heat trailed Zagreus’ roaming hands, which found Than’s hair, his throat, his biceps, every caress more frantic than the last. Thanatos pulled at Zagreus’ hips, pressing their bodies closer. Zagreus broke away only to breathe, and Thanatos ducked under Zagreus’ chin to find the crook of his neck, licking up tastes of the sweetness of his sweat and the faint scent of the red blood beneath his flesh. Zagreus let out a heavy moan.

That was all Zagreus allowed, though, before pushing Thanatos back, and from the way that Zagreus looked at him he suddenly felt weak at the knees. He leaned into Zagreus’ hands cradling him up and into his kiss. 

Thanatos briefly toyed with the thought of fighting him as they sometimes did. He imagined their bodies entwining, enticing and overpowering one another until finally one surrendered to their lust. In spite of Zag’s petulance, Thanatos normally found himself the victor. 

His desire for pursuit quickly eroded. Zagreus had already started to peel off Thanatos’ cloak, grasping and pinching at all of the newly revealed skin, drawing out sparks of pleasure from the tender spots on his body Zagreus had carefully memorized. Zagreus’ grip on him felt so strong, curled into claws, traveling down Thanatos’ back, his lips on Thanatos’ throat and collarbone. Every sensation reduced Thanatos further to a mindless bliss, but he wanted more. He wanted to drink in all of Zagreus’ power, to worship and bless Zagreus in ways only he could. 

As Zagreus cupped Thanatos’ shoulders, switching their places so that Zagreus rested his back against the stone, and pushed Thanatos down onto to his knees, Thanatos lost all will to persuade Zag from doing anything other than _exactly_ what he wanted him to do. 

Thanatos pressed a kiss into the outline of Zagreus’ cock straining against the fabric of his chiton, eliciting a soft groan from Zagreus. Thanatos pulled the fabric aside, but Zagreus made quick haste in tearing it off as his other hand tugged gently on Thanatos’ lips. Thanatos planted another kiss at the base of Zagreus’ cock, smiling in delight by how tightly erect he felt. Warmth glowed from Zagreus feet, up his legs and onto Thanatos’ tongue, as it traveled up and down Zagreus’ shaft, lavishing him, until he parted his lips and took Zagreus’ cock into his mouth. Zagreus groaned, cursing, his both of his hands pulling at Thanatos’ hair. 

Zagreus’ head swam as pleasure guided his body. He unconsciously thrusted into the wetness of Thanatos’ mouth and tongue, made hot by his work. Zagreus loved to see Thanatos so fully engrossed in him. He was more used to Than taking control of him in some way, but he saw now Than had completely lost himself in adoring Zagreus’ cock, and in doing so, Than neglected no inch of him. Than’s fingers tightened around him. The way Than’s strokes followed his lips felt as though Than would milk the blood from his body. Zagreus savored it all, though he bit hard into his lower lip to hold the sensation from overcoming him, even as his breath caught in his throat.

Thanatos slid Zagreus’ cock into his mouth down to meet his abdomen. His amber gaze locked on Zagreus, and Zagreus had to pull him back abruptly to keep himself from being overwhelmed then and there. Thanatos dropped his gaze back to Zagreus’ twitching cock. A delicate web of saliva still connected Thanatos to him. Zagreus pulled him up and kissed him desperately, tasting himself on Thanatos’ lips. Their bodies found intersections to zealously grind and thrust against one another, but this only satisfied their craving for a moment before once again the need for more overcame them.

Zagreus picked Thanatos up and before Thanatos could realize what happened he was surrounded by plush velvet bedding, a flurry of kisses and touch, his tongue tasting Zagreus’ hot breath, the oil pooling from a bronze jar into Zagreus’ hands, dripping down his forearms and onto Thanatos’ thighs as Zagreus divided them. 

At once Thanatos felt the sensation of Zagreus’ fingers inside of him and the heat of Zagreus’ lips on his cock. A moan escaped from Thanatos’ throat and his body sunk into Zagreus’ steady hands. Zagreus only gave him the lightest of licks along Thanatos’ shaft as his fingers gave way to waves of pleasure. Thanatos could not help but to move with him, exacting as much as possible from each touch that Zagreus offered. The thrusts reminded him of what it felt like to be filled by Zag, and his mind focused tighter and tighter to that need to be wanted. To be consumed. To be used. Zagreus smiled at him.

“You all right, Than?” Zagreus asked softly, as he continued his motions. “Or are you missing my cock already?”

That coy tone in his voice. Thanatos knew he was being toyed with, and all he could do was shiver in anticipation. “Zag,” Thanatos moaned, “Please…”

“You’re going to have to do better than ‘please’,” Zagreus murmured.

Zagreus’ smile widened. He continued to stroke Thanatos’ insides. Thanatos felt like soft clay in his hands, molding to each heated graze, further clouding his mind with lust. Through it he saw Zagreus’ grin distorted by a kind of heightened excitement, his eyes alight, wild and gleeful. Thanatos remembered all at once the Zag he saw in their duet battles in the Underworld, wound up by triumph after triumph, calling out for more, a full display of his voracious desire to conquer. Thanatos could again sense the depth of his power as a god, for once unbridled by defeat and uninhibited by conscience, now fully focused toward him. 

In any other way, he would have feared his own vulnerability. But in that moment, as Zagreus dragged him closer, the way his own body yielded only turned him on more. He felt it to the point of delirium. And he couldn’t wait any longer.

“Fuck me,” Thanatos begged through his gasping breath.

“What?”

“Gods, Zag, I need you to fuck me. _Please_.”

“Good,” Zagreus purred. “Because I am going to fuck you hard.”

The desperation in Thanatos’ face set Zagreus off once again. He knelt down and quickened his fingers. Thanatos’ unbridled moans were caught in his kiss. The weight of Zagreus’ body anchored Thanatos to this fixed point in time. Every unspoken worry, every unanswered question, every dreary day or night, and every lonely moment evaporated between the heat of their bodies.

Pleasure replaced it all, bursting forward as Zagreus entered him. The two moaned as Zagreus thrusted further, deeper into Thanatos. Zagreus wasted no time picking up his pace. Zagreus fucked Thanatos without respite, tasting over and over and over the ecstasy of Thanatos’ body. He pressed close into Thanatos, aided by Thanatos’ legs curled over Zagreus’ hips, his back arched into Zagreus’s stomach.

Zagreus worked ardently to wring pleasure from all of Thanatos’ weak spots, dragging his tongue across Thanatos’ nipples one moment, then nicking at his collarbone with his teeth the next, following the trails of relief his massaging fingers released. He wanted to find more of Than to devour, to drive him further out of his mind. He had never seen Than so pliable, so reduced to his basest of instincts, which in turn fueled Zagreus’ need to elicit as much of it as possible. His grip fell to Thanatos’ waist, steering his body, watching his muscles rise and fall with vigor and the sheen of sweat breaking along the lines of his exertion. 

Zagreus tasted his dampened skin, kissed away all remaining tension in his body. He lingered at Thanatos’ throat, sucking the soft crook of his neck and felt the vibration of his moans in sync with the rolling of his hips. 

And there he coaxed Thanatos to tell him how good he felt, how much he wanted him, how much he missed being fucked senseless, even if all the replies Thanatos could manage were ragged whispers between his gasps. When he noticed Than’s movements start to seize in pleasure, his lids growing heavier with anticipation, Zagreus would slow, savoring how each thrust would deepen Than’s pleading gaze. Only then would Thanatos take the lead, riding Zagreus harder in his undulating motion, calling his name as an invocation, until Zagreus quickened his movements again.

Zagreus pulled Thanatos with him and sat up, knees under him, with Thanatos straddling and bearing down into Zagreus’ lap as Zagreus thrusted up into him. Zagreus wrapped one hand around Thanatos’ cock, causing Thanatos to collapse around him, giving way to blinding pleasure. He moaned into Zagreus’ shoulder, his nails dug into Zagreus’ back. The sense of his body rushed away from him, replaced by only the singular, white-hot sensation of his orgasm coalescing in his abdomen, constricting further and further still, his muscles tightening around Zagreus’ strong embrace, until it threatened to crest and wash over him, and as this reached a fevered pitch deep in his body and pooled into every limb he let out a strangled moan—

But Zagreus, sensing this, whispered to him, “You’re going to come, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Thanatos whimpered.

Zagreus held him tighter and pounded him harder, faster. “Come for me,” Zagreus ordered through gritted teeth.

Zagreus’ command broke him. Euphoria shot through Thanatos like a bolt of lightning, radiating through every part of his body, then focused so forcefully on his cock, as pulse after pulse gave him release. 

Zagreus rode each wave with him, then pushed him gently back down into the bed, working himself up to his previous pace again. Than’s doelike flustered expression begged Zag to come inside of him. Easily done. The vision of Thanatos’ submission had driven him wild. He fucked Thanatos hard, following his pleasure into Than’s body until he caught it—the orgasm welled up within him, blinding him from the world in its totality, and with his final hardest thrusts he came hard and deep inside of Thanatos, who pulled him closer, moaning at the heat filling him.

After the final wave of pleasure receded, Zagreus all but collapsed on top of Thanatos. He laughed softly, partly through panted breath, and pulled out of Thanatos. The two laid next to each other until Zagreus caught his breath, and when his sighs stabilized, Thanatos gently curled his body into Zagreus.

“I did thank you for coming here, right?” Zagreus asked.

“I think you got your point across,” said Thanatos.

Zagreus laughed. “I really have missed you,” he said quietly.

“And I you.” Thanatos moved his hand lazily across Zagreus’ chest. 

Reality slowly pieced itself back together, and soon enough, Thanatos felt the call of his work pulling him back to the surface. They stole a few final moments from Thanatos’ departure in stillness, as if their lives had not upended around them, dividing them across time and space as the signatures of their souls faded beyond reach. Neither that pain nor the pressure of their uncertain future could touch them here. They lay in the heavens as they lay in the dark of Zagreus’ room, pretending as they always did that this embrace would not be their last, that this parting would only be for a short time, and that some way, somehow, they would return to one other. The depth of their embrace, the close reality of their touch, held and kept safe that silent promise.

“I told you I had more in store for you,” said Zagreus, not bothering to conceal the pride in his voice, though it did work to add levity to the air. “I’m pleased you took me up on it.”

“Don’t get too comfortable with all that,” Thanatos pretended to snap. “That was just the ambrosia talking. Next time it’s my turn.”

“And when might that be?”

Thanatos rose to look down at him. Desire still lingered in Zagreus’ eyes like a low-burning fire, waiting to be reignited. For all of his conquests, even in the night celebrating his ultimate victory, Zagreus remained insatiable. 

“You tell me,” said Thanatos.

**Author's Note:**

> As soon as I learned Dionysus was going to throw Zag a party I was like, there is NO WAY Zag isn't turning that into a booty call. 
> 
> This is my first piece of published writing in about............ eleven years...... and to be honest, I'm very nervous about posting it. So I really hope it lives up to the expectation of this wonderful fandom and this tremendous game.


End file.
